


A Word in Your Ear

by brawnysloth



Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, F/M, Father-Son Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-24
Updated: 2018-05-31
Packaged: 2019-05-13 09:53:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,636
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14746602
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/brawnysloth/pseuds/brawnysloth
Summary: Sequel of sorts to One Big Misunderstanding.Hopper just wants to keep 1 of his vices. Jonathan's got a hot neighbor. And they have a heart to heart.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you all for your ridiculously lovely comments on One Big Misunderstanding. I actually wrote a good chunk of this fic before that one, and realized it fits in the same universe pretty well.
> 
> Let me know what you think and thanks as always for reading xxx
> 
> FYI: This chapter focuses mainly on Hopper and Jonathan, bit of Jopper but will be more in the next.

Winter 1986

They make it to Christmas before they venture out to New York to visit Jonathan. They see him briefly in October, when the kids coerce them into a long weekend at Hershey Park and Hopper decides if they’re going to go that far he might as well see if Jonathan wants to join. He appreciated the extra pair of eyes to watch the kids and seeing the surprised look on Joyce’s face when she saw their oldest waiting at the hotel was certainly worth it.

He’s not entirely sure when he started thinking of Jonathan as ‘their oldest’, but he can probably trace it back to Flo.

_Hop, Mr. Turner is complaining about your oldest harassing him again._

He’d enjoyed that encounter. Old man Turner hollering at him about pressing charges while Jonathan talked over him, asking continuously about the string of not so legal payments he’d been accepting at the butchery. (Who’d have thought the butcher? No one until his oldest did some digging.)

 _Chief, Bowen just radioed in, he’s arrested your oldest down at that protest._

That one had been not so great, causing a massive fight between himself and Joyce when Hopper had ultimately decided he needed to book him. He didn’t want to, but he had had no choice and besides, NYU had loved it; thought it was a sign of the type of person they wanted enrolled with them; kids who fought for social change and shit. 

But other than the trip to Hershey they’ve refrained from heading east. Joyce had said she wanted to let him settle in; Hopper thinks she’d just been determined to prove she could give him the space. 

They get in late in the afternoon of the 23rd. They drop their stuff at the hotel they’ll stay at before heading the two blocks to Jonathan’s. It’s different then what Hopper was expecting. It’s a nice place, and it could be considered big if he didn’t know just how many boys were living there.

“It’s not so bad,” Jonathan says when he’s finished giving them the tour and the three kids plop down on his couch. “We all have different schedules so the house is never too full.”

Hopper doesn’t believe him. But if the kid’s happy he’s willing to keep his mouth shut.

“Any of ‘em here?” he asks.

“Chris is in town, he’s my roommate,” he says, “but he’s staying with his girlfriend for the week.”

“Will we get to meet him?” Joyce asks, turning from the doorway to the kitchen where she is trying to inconspicuously take inventory of the open pantry.

Jonathan shrugs. “Maybe, he said he’ll try to swing by Saturday but who knows with them.”

“Food,” Jane says, drawing everyone’s attention. “I want food.” 

“Yeah me too,” Will chimes in. “We haven’t eaten since that place in Pennsylvania, I’m _starving_.” 

“Did you two check your manners at the Lincoln Tunnel?” Hopper grumbles, glaring at the two of them.

Jane huffs and Will rolls his eyes and boy is this teenager shit getting old. He’s spent the last few months wondering if there’s any way he could slip into a medically induced coma, at least until they’re 20.

“Here, I figured we could get food from this place,” Jonathan says, reaching over to grab what looks like a menu off the table. “I left it out because I figured you two would be quick to complain.”

Will gives his brother a shove, which results in Jane shoving Will until the three of them are just shoving each other and bickering.

Scratch that, 30.

“Alright enough,” he groans and the shoving ceases. “Look at the menu and pick out what you want.”

Hopper glances over his shoulder to see Joyce has disappeared into the kitchen. With one last look to see the kids are occupied with the menu, he slips through the doorway in search of her. She’s stood in front of the fridge, eyeing the various things attached to its door. 

Hopper spots a drawing Will had mailed to Jonathan stuck on with a magnet. It’s of the five of them at the kitchen table in their home. Joyce has a speaking bubble that says, “Don’t forget to eat breakfast!” Hopper has one too that says, “If you do I’ll arrest you!” He rolls his eyes; he’d forgotten about that particular part of the drawing. He was clearly never going to live that down, the four of them would no doubt hold it over his head for eternity.

“Hey,” he says softly, coming up behind her and wrapping his arms around her waist. “Kids are picking what they want for dinner.”

“Do you think he’s really happy here?”

Hopper takes another glance around the kitchen and shrugs. “I mean it’s not what we’d imagined for him but if he says he’s happy we’ve gotta take his word for it.”

She turns in his arms, resting her hands on his chest and scrunching up her nose. “It’s just so.... I mean it’s not small but it’s -”

“Cramped?”

“Yeah.”

“Well like I said, if he says he’s happy we gotta believe he is.”

She nods at that, leaning forward to rest her head against his chest. “I’m so happy to see him,” she says after a moment, “but I would kill to be in bed right now.”

He hums in agreement. “Wrapped up in our warm, wool blanket.”

She moans softly at the thought, and he bends down to place a series of kisses along her neck. She reaches down and pinches one of his hands. “Knock it off,” she says playfully.

“Never,” he whispers, reaching up to move her shirt so that he can continue down her shoulder.

“Hop,” she warns, a teasing lilt underneath it, “the kids are in the other room.” He ignores her, sliding his other hand up her stomach to cup her breast. 

“We are in our son’s kitchen,” she hisses and he freezes.

He slowly pulls back to look at her, and he’s sure his face matches her stunned expression.

Neither of them had ever referred to Jonathan as his before. Sure, he thought of him as that, and she had on more than one occasion told him he was a father to the kid. But saying it out loud? ‘Our son.’ It was different with Will. He’d started calling Hopper ‘Dad’ recently, and though it had been a bit jarring at first, he liked it. But Jonathan, Jonathan was different. He thought of him as his oldest, loved the kid as his own, but he was already grown.

“Hop,” she says, shaking him out of his thoughts.

He shakes his head. “Sorry, you’ve just-”

“I know,” she says, “I’m sorry is it-?”

“No it’s fine,” he quickly assures her. “I - I like it.”

“Yeah?” she asks, smiling tentatively.

He smiles back. “Yeah, he’s – Joyce –” he moves his hand away from her chest, bringing it up to cup her cheek. “Just because we’ve never said it before doesn’t mean it’s not how I feel.”

She reaches her hand up to hold his against her before lifting up on her toes for a kiss and he meets her halfway.

“Oh Jesus guys!” They pull away, and look embarrassingly back at Jonathan. “In my kitchen? Really?”

Hopper grins and looks back down at Joyce. She’s blushing but there’s a small smile on her face as she glances back up at him. 

“Sorry kid,” he says with a shrug.

Jonathan rolls his eyes before coming forward and holding out the menu. “Ugh, just pick what you want. And then someone’s gonna have to go get it, trying to get them over the phone is a nightmare.”

Hopper takes the menu and Jonathan retreats back to the living room, shaking his head. He opens the menu and holds it out so Joyce can see it too. They peruse it together. He can’t decide what he’s in the mood for. And then, he spots it. Aptly titled ‘The Cardiac Burger’. Two patties, bacon, an onion ring, jalapeños, hot sauce and _fried cheese_. He needs it.

Joyce, as always, is onto him. “Don’t even think about it.”

He huffs. “You don’t even know what I’m lookin’ at.” They both know he’s lying.

She plucks the menu out of his hand and turns to glare at him. “You’ll drop dead,” she says. “I’m not having you drop dead. In front of our children. Two days before Christmas.”

“You’re being dramatic,” he snaps, suddenly defensive. “It’s one damn burger.”

It’s a stupid thing to fight over, he knows this. But he truly doesn’t see the harm in one little burger. Okay so it wasn’t little but goddammit he wanted to treat himself every once in a while. He did all the exercising, he quit smoking - well.... sort of - and he ate healthy. He deserved one cheat burger.

Not according to her. She leaned in, face stern and poked the menu at him.

“You can get a ‘damn burger’ if you want but you are not getting _that burger_.”

He wouldn’t win. He couldn’t win. He rolls his eyes, admitting defeat and snatches the menu back. “Fine but I’m getting an order of onion rings,” he growls.

“We’ll share an order.”

This damn woman. If anything was gonna cause him to drop dead it would be her. He sulks off to the living room to get the kids orders and then heads to the door. He grabs his coat from where it’s hung, pats inconspicuously at the inside pocket, grateful when he feels the familiar shape. He slips out the door, hollering over his shoulder he’ll be back soon.

When he gets to the sidewalk, he glances back to make sure the coast is clear. When he sees no sign of being followed, he reaches into the inside pocket and pulls out his pack of camels. He knows he’ll get shit for it later but he needs the nicotine; needs the one little guilty pleasure he still has left. He’d promised he’d given up ages ago. The kids had got them down to one a day and eventually one a week. And after some time, both Hopper and Joyce were totally off cigarettes. But a few months back he’d caved and bought a pack. The very same pack he pulls a smoke from now. He only had one occasionally. When he needed a break, needed to relieve stress. 

He fishes out a lighter, lights the end, and takes his first drag.

“Jim?”

He freezes, cigarette dangly loosely between his lips. There’s no possible way, no way in a city this damn big he’d run into - 

He turns slowly towards her, hand coming up to take the cigarette out of his mouth. _Diane._ She’s standing a few feet from him, eyes wide as she takes him in. She looks... different. But there’s no doubt it’s her. She may have a different hairstyle, may have more lines around her eyes but he’d know her anywhere. Neither speaks for a brief time, just standing and taking one another in in shock.

“Hey,” he eventually manages.

“What the hell are you doing here?” she asks, an accusatory tone to her voice that he finds a bit odd. He knows he wasn’t the greatest to her all those years ago when they ended things but it’s not like she has full reign of the city.

“In New York?” he asks, a slight hint of annoyance in his tone.

“In front of my house,” she shoots back.

Well shit.

“I haven’t heard from you in years,” she continues, “I thought maybe you’d finally found peace but this - Jim this is beyond anything -” 

He steps forward, hands held up in defense. “Hey Di look okay this is not what it looks -” 

“Not what it looks like you’re _outside of my house._ ” Her voice is frantic, and it startles him how frightened she looks but if she’d just let him get a word in he could explain. 

Thankfully, the door to Jonathan’s townhouse opens, drawing their attention. Out comes the young man himself, adjusting his coat around his shoulders.

“Hey Ho- dad!” He calls as he comes down the stairs. Hopper’s confused by the new title but he doesn’t address it as Jonathan comes to a stop next to him, eyes trained on Diane. “Merry Christmas Mrs. Richards,” he says, “see you’ve met my dad.”

Diane’s eyes widen and she looks between the two of them. “Your dad?” she asks. “This is your father?”

“Yeah,” he says enthusiastically before turning to Hopper. He gives him a pleading look, so quick Hopper barely sees it before the kid’s smiling again. “Dad this is Mrs. Richards, my next door neighbor. Mrs. Richards, Jim Hopper.”

Neither he nor Diane says anything to one another. She’s glancing back and forth between the two of them and it’s too much so he turns his focus to Jonathan.

“Need something?” he asks.

“Mom wanted me to come with you,” Jonathan says with a grin, “she’s worried you’re gonna try and order that cardiac burger.”

Hopper rolls his eyes. “I said I wouldn’t, can’t she take me at my word?”

“Didn’t you also say you quit smoking?”

“I’m working on it,” Hopper snaps, no real malice in his voice as he tosses the remains of his unsmoked cigarette into the street. He casts a quick glance at Diane who’s been watching their interaction with interest. He clears his throat, turning back to Jonathan. “Hey kid, mind giving us a minute?” He nods down the road. “You start heading over and I’ll catch up with you.”

The smile fades from Jonathan’s face. He glances between the two suspiciously and Hopper can see the wheels turning as the young man no doubt starts drawing conclusions Hopper wants to quash immediately. He claps Jonathan on the shoulder and gives it a reassuring squeeze but he feels the kid tense at the contact, moving his shoulder and brushing Hopper’s hand away. 

“Sure,” Jonathan says tightly, turning to Diane. “Merry Christmas Mrs. Richards. Tell Mr. Richards I said the same.”

Hopper doesn’t miss the way he stresses Bill’s name or the angry look he shoots Hopper’s way before passing Diane and heading down the street. He keeps an eye on his retreating form as he and Diane stand awkwardly for a moment before he decides to bite the bullet.

“Look, I’m sorry,” he says though he’s not too sure what he’s apologizing for. 

“No Jim, I should be the one apologizing I shouldn’t have jumped to conclusions.”

He shrugs. “Given my track record, can’t say I blame you.”

That draws a wry smile from Diane. “You were grieving,” she says, “and while it was a lot, you were never ‘find my new address and stand outside’ bad.”

He shrugs awkwardly. He can understand her concern, given the situation, but it’s awkward. They haven’t seen each other in almost a decade now, hadn’t spoken since that phone call when Will had gone missing. He clears his throat.

“Bill not down at the 99th anymore?”

“No, he got transferred to the 6th back in July. We moved out here a month later.”

Hopper nods but doesn’t say anything else. He doesn’t know what to say.

“You know Jonathan, he’s just been amazing,” Diane continues, at least one of them trying to fill the awkward silence. “Him and his roommates helped us with the move and he babysits for us sometimes. My son just loves him.”

“He’s a good kid,” he agrees. “His mom, she did a hell of a job.”

Diane smiles. “I’ve heard a lot about her,” she says. “He talks about you all, all of the time. Especially the twins, he was so excited he got to see them back in October.”

Hopper nods and just keeps nodding in an attempt to stop his emotions from getting the better of him. He knows Jonathan sees Jane as a sister, has been there in the past two years for her. But to know he’s expressing it to other people - even if Hopper doesn’t fully understand why - tugs at his heart. And twins. Hell he wonders how they’ve never referred to the two of them as that before.

“Are they -” she stops, clearly trying to find the right way to phrase the question he can imagine she wants to ask. “Are any of them, you know, yours?”

He runs his hand through his hair and looks away. Even if he knew the question was coming, he’s not sure how to answer. “Not technically,” he finally settles on, looking back to her. “But they’re my kids.”

He clears his throat, shifting on his feet. He glances over her shoulder and can no longer see Jonathan. He hadn’t meant to stay speaking with her this long.

“Look Di, I gotta run,” he says. “If I don’t catch up with him he’ll do something stupid like try to buy dinner with his own money.” 

“Of course.”

He takes a step forward but stops. What was the protocol for this? Saying goodbye to your ex-wife after awkwardly running into her after so long, after everything they’d gone through.

“You look good Jim,” she says, saving him. “And I’m happy for you.”

He mumbles a thanks, smiles through his pain and steps forward again, bending to kiss her cheek.

“Take care of yourself,” she whispers, reaching up to squeeze his shoulder gently. “And them. If Jonathan’s any indication, they’re a lovely bunch.”

“That they are,” he says. “I’ll see you, Di.”

With that, he heads down the block in the direction Jonathan had gone. After a few blocks he rounds the corner towards the shop and spots Jonathan leaning against a lamppost. The kid is practically radiating anger as he looks at Hopper before turning to continue down the street. 

“Hey,” Hopper starts, picking up his pace to catch up.

“What the hell was that?” Jonathan snaps, whirling around, his face fierce and determined.

He holds back his frustration, knowing what Jonathan’s assuming. A part of him gets it, truly he does. But he thinks after all these years, after everything they’d been through, the kid would think better of him. “Jonathan it’s not what -”

“Really? You honestly expect me to believe that you weren’t just trying to hit on my hot neighbor?”

Hopper snorts at that, and it’s immediately clear he should’ve tried harder to hold it in. Jonathan steps forward and shoves him, hard. Hop isn’t expecting it and he stumbles backwards with a shout. Jonathan moves forward again, crowding him.

“Is this funny to you? Ruining everything? Hurting my mom and -” Jonathan breaks off, emotional. “Hurting all of us?” he finishes, voice shaking.

Hopper is at a loss for words. His brain scrambled, overwhelmed by everything that’s happened. His discussion with Joyce, openly acknowledging that he sees the young man stood before him as his own, to seeing Diane and now this?

When he says nothing, Jonathan wipes quickly at his eyes and turns away to continue the trek for dinner.

“She was my wife,” Hopper calls softly, before his brain can catch up. If this were even a year ago, he’d let Jonathan go, and he himself would leave; disappear possibly back to the hotel to drink himself into a stupor. But he needs Jonathan to understand; needs to set everything right because he _doesn’t_ want to ruin it all or hurt any of them.

It works. Out of the corner of his eye he sees Jonathan stop and turn back. “What?”

“Diane - Mrs. Richards,” he says, calling her that still feeling foreign. “She... she was my wife.” He lifts his head finally to meet Jonathan’s gaze. “Sarah’s mother.”

He can’t make out Jonathan’s face in the dim street lighting but he’s known the kid long enough to register the dip of his head, the quick shuffle of feet as he leans to his left. Guilt.

Hopper takes a deep steadying breath and reaches for the pack of cigarettes. Shaking fingers reach in and grab one, bringing it to his lips and lighting it. The first drag is sweet relief. He feels like his lungs are expanding again, trying desperately to get fresh air in amongst the smoke and when he exhales he can already feel the anxiousness ebbing away. It’s still there - will still be there for a little while - but for now as he takes another drag, it’s manageable. He sits down on the nearest stoop, rubs at his forehead in an attempt to ease the headache he knows is coming. 

Jonathan moves slowly back towards him, standing over him, and Hopper continues.

“I haven’t seen her in a while,” he says. “And things were bad between us kid, real bad.” He takes another drag. “I didn’t handle it all well.” He lets out a short, hollow laugh. “Apparently I handled it so bad she thought I was stood out there because I was stalking her.”

Jonathan shuffles his feet again. “I didn’t know,” he says quietly.

Hopper shrugs. “How would you? Guess the world’s a lot smaller than we think.”

He tosses the cigarette, suddenly not wanting it anymore. Jonathan moves forward and sits gently down next to him on the step. 

“I’m sorry,” he says, “I shouldn’t have jumped to conclusions.”

“I don’t blame ya kid.”

Jonathan shakes his head. “No, that’s stupid, I’m stupid. You’ve - you’ve never given me a reason to doubt you.”

Hopper doesn’t correct him, even if he feels a slight need to. He understands the distrust, it’s embedded in the kid by now, after everything Lonnie did. But instead of going back and forth with him on it, knowing it’ll only frustrate the two of them, he tries a different approach. Decides opening up to him might be more beneficial. 

“I’m happy,” he says, “your mom, she makes.... she makes me feel whole. And you three, I... I want the _world_ for you. I want to give it to you. That’s what you want for your kids.” He wrings his hands. “And sometimes when I realize that, it makes me feel wrong. Because, I’ve only got all of this because she died. If she were alive, I wouldn’t be here, sat with you. I wouldn’t‘ve come back to Hawkins. I wouldn’t have your mom; I wouldn’t have any of it. So I’m only happy today because my little girl died. I only got all of this because of that.”

His voice is hoarse by the time he finishes, and he rubs his eyes, trying to stop tears before they fall.

“Will would be dead,” Jonathan whispers. “Will would be dead and mom... I don’t think she’d have survived that.”

“Jonathan -”

“No,” he interrupts, voice firm and gaze determined once again as looks up he meets Hopper’s eye. “You were the only one that believed her. If you hadn’t come back, you really think whoever’d been in your place would’ve gone to those lengths for her?” He shifts away until he’s fully facing Hopper. “I’m not saying - I’m so sorry, Hop. I’m so sorry that you lost your daughter. I wish - I wish she’d have lived and you’d have still found your way back to Hawkins. And I can't even begin to understand how you must have felt, how you still feel. But - but I’ve got my brother because of you. I’ve got a sister, and mom...” he trails off, lips trembling. “I’m sorry about Sarah,” he repeats shakily. “But you mean a lot to us. And that? You don’t get to feel bad about that.”

He’s overwhelmed, and now against his wishes, a tear does fall. He grapples with what to say as he reaches out, grasping Jonathan’s shoulder, squeezing it affectionately.

“I hope you never feel that pain,” he says hoarsely. “I pray every day that none of you ever never know that kind of pain. And I -” he breaks off, knowing how monumental this will be for the two of them. “I love you kid.”

Jonathan nods, sniffs. He takes a deep, steadying breath. “I love you too Hop.”

He squeezes Jonathan’s shoulder again before pulling him into a hug. Jonathan reciprocates it immediately, wrapping his arms around Hopper’s shoulders. He pats the back of Jonathan’s head affectionately. 

“You’re a good kid,” he whispers.

“I’m sorry,” Jonathan whispers back.

“Nah,” Hopper responds, pulling away. “Nothing to be sorry for.”

He’s not even sure he knows what Jonathan is apologizing for, but he knows he doesn’t need it.

“Hey!” a voice above them hollers. They turn to look up and find a man hanging out of the window of the house. “Get the hell off my stoop!”

“Calm down!” Jonathan yells back, standing. “We’ve only been here a minute!”

“Fuck you!”

“No fuck you!”

Hopper grins at the exchange as he stands.

“What?” Jonathan says, suspicious.

“Nothing, just good to see you’re acclimating to New York.”

Jonathan rolls his eyes.

“You leave the good country boy in Indiana?” Hopper teases.

“Shut up,” Jonathan shoots back, only slightly annoyed. He starts walking again, and Hopper follows.

He clears his throat as he falls into step along side Jonathan. “So,” he starts, trying to seem casual, “what uh, what was with the whole dad thing?”

Jonathan blushes, and shrugs, trying his hand at being casual too. “Before I left, you told me not to draw attention to myself, don’t tell anyone I’m from Hawkins and all that. Figured I'd be a bit less interesting - more normal - if I just acted like I came from a normal family.” He shrugs again. “Two parents still together, younger siblings and all that.”

He understands in a way. He feels bad that that’s how Jonathan interpreted his advice, but he gets it.

“Look Hop,” Jonathan says, coming to a stop. “You’re - you know you’re - you’re like a father to me.” Hopper comes to a stop as well, and waits for Jonathan to continue. “But I’m not there yet. I know Will is and that’s great. It means a lot to me, that he sees you as that and calls you it. But I’m just not ready.” 

Hopper nods in understanding. “I get it,” he says. And he does. He understands that it doesn’t diminish the relationship they have, doesn’t mean that Jonathan doesn’t think of him as a father. He’d just said as much. But again, after everything Lonnie had put him through, Hopper’s just grateful for what they’ve got. “I don’t expect that from you kid, I hope you know that.”

“I do,” Jonathan says, near cutting him off in his quickness to say it. “Maybe - maybe one day you know?” He shrugs.

Hopper pats him on the back with a small smile before continuing again down the road. He’ll take it.

They continue walking once again, silent for a short while.

“You think my ex-wife is hot?”

Jonathan groans. “Let’s just not talk for the rest of the time.”

Hopper lets out a roar of laughter and claps his oldest on the back.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Joyce finds out, habits are hard to kick, and rocks can be beautiful things.
> 
> TW: they go to visit Sarah’s grave in this, so there’s Hopper struggling to deal with that and having a panic attack.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks again for reading! Here’s the next chapter with a healthy dose of Jopper.

Dinner, as always, is a loud and rambunctious affair. The kids snatch at each other’s food and at their parents’ and ultimately Hopper only gets two onion rings from the bag only he and Joyce were meant to share. He grumbles, annoyed about it, and Joyce slides the remains of her chicken wrap over to him as a peace offering.

Afterwards, they squeeze into the living room and chat for a brief time before Hopper glances at his watch and suggests they head to the hotel for some much needed sleep. The twins - he can’t help it - argue to stay a bit longer and after some haggling and pleading, he relents to letting them sleep over at Jonathan’s. He’s worried of course and he can tell Joyce is too. But honestly he feels safer here than he ever would in Hawkins, and with the little white lie Jonathan has spun, he feels they’ve got an extra layer of safety. And besides, they’re two blocks away and Jonathan has the number to the hotel if he needs them. 

“But don’t be complaining tomorrow if you’re tired,” he warns as he and Joyce head for the door.

They head out the door and down the sidewalk in the direction of the hotel, Joyce’s arm looped through his.

“Don’t think I didn’t notice,” she says when they’re rounding the corner to the hotel.

“Notice what?”

“Hop, you reek of cigarettes.”

She’s caught him, he knew she would. He takes a deep breath, readying himself for the lecture that’s about to come.

“Joyce -”

“Do you have any more?”

His eyes widen in surprise and he glances down at her.

“Uh, yeah?”

“I’m mad,” she says, “but I’d be lying if I said I didn’t want one too so please share.”

He laughs and continues leading her to the hotel.

They sit out on the tiny balcony of their room and over a cigarette, he tells her everything; about running into Diane, about his talk with Jonathan. She sits and listens intently as they pass the cigarette between them.

“She’s his neighbor?” she asks when he’s done, taking a drag. He nods. “Jesus, Hop. What are the odds?”

“Pretty slim, but I mean of course she is, you know?”

“And Jonathan?”

“We’re okay,” he assures her, taking the cigarette as she holds it out. “We - our talk was good.”

“He really said one day?”

“Maybe,” he corrects. “Maybe one day.”

“So, yes,” she says. He shrugs, takes the last drag of the cigarette before putting it out. He glances up to find her staring intently at him. “Well unless you plan on breaking up with me, I don’t see how he doesn’t come around to it eventually.”

He sighs. “But that’s exactly it Joyce. I don’t want him to just come around to it, I want him to actually want to.”

She rolls her eyes. “Obviously, I didn’t mean it like he’ll do it because he feels he has to. I just meant you know, if he’s feeling that way now, I’m sure he’ll still feel that way unless you do something awful.”

They sit in silence for a time, not really feeling the effects of the cold with their jackets, and really this cold is nothing compared to an Indiana winter.

“You’ll be okay with it?” she asks after a little while. “If he does eventually get to that point?”

He mulls the thought of it over. There’s something different about it with Jonathan. With Will, he’s been there to help raise him, and he will be there for the next two years and beyond. And Will was gentle, had escaped Lonnie relatively unscathed because he was too young to remember or understand. So he had welcomed Hopper as a father figure quickly. But Jonathan was older, hardened. And as much as Hopper had stepped into that same role for him, he hadn’t ever needed him. The thought of Jonathan calling him ‘dad’ is strange.

And perhaps it’s because he had lost his father young, hadn’t known what it was like to be grown and have that person in his life, that the idea of being there in that way for someone grown felt foreign to him. But regardless, he saw Jonathan as his just as much as he saw Will. And Jane. Finally, he nods.

“Yeah,” he says. “It’ll be weird at first. Different kind of weird than it was with Will. But -“ he shrugs and looks up to meet her eye, smiles. “I think it’d be nice. All of them calling me ‘dad’.”

She abruptly stands and maneuvers around the little table between them before sliding into his lap. She takes his face in her hands and bends down to capture his lips with her own.

His hands slide up her back, pulling her into him. She shifts until she’s kneeling over him, pressing down against him insistently. He groans, pulling away.

“God you love it when I get all fatherly, don’t you?”

She grimaces, nose wrinkled in disgust. “Well when you say it like that it just sounds weird.”

“Yeah but you know what I mean,” he says, sliding a hand through her hair to pull her down for another kiss.

She moans into it, pushing her hips into his again and something within him snaps. He grabs at the handle to the slider door and pushes it until it opens. She hears it, and moves from his lap, dragging him through the door.

He slides the coat off her shoulders as her hands work on removing his belt.

“Yeah?” he whispers against her mouth.

“Please,” she answers.

*****

The next morning he’s up early. He slides out of her grasp and when he’s sure he hasn’t woken her, he grabs a new set of clothes and heads to take a shower.

He’s rinsing the shampoo out of his hair when he hears the door to the bathroom open. The curtain is slid back and she steps in behind him, wrapping her hands around his waist.

“Hey,” he says softly, reaching down to grab one of her hands. “Sorry did I wake you?”

“Yeah, but I’m glad you did. Didn’t want you sneaking out.”

He turns in her arms. “What?”

She nudges at him gently so she can get under the water. “We’re coming with you.”

“Joyce-“

“Hop the kids are already down in the lobby,” she says, as she runs her hands through her hair under the spray. She turns back to him. “Look, if you tell me you want to go alone that’s fine I respect it. We’ll go get breakfast or something while we wait for you.” She slides her hands up his chest and gives him a soft smile. “But you don’t have to go alone, not anymore.”

He doesn’t know what to say. The idea of them being there is not something he’d thought about. He had just planned on sneaking out, leaving a note that he’d be back a little before noon and with a place they could meet up for lunch.

He doesn’t want them there, doesn’t want them to have to see him like that. But... the thought of going alone terrifies him. He glances down at Joyce. She’s waiting patiently, and he knows that she’ll accept whatever he decides.

He nods. “Yeah,” he says, “yeah okay.”

****

The short drive out of the city is quiet. Jonathan and Jane whisper quietly to one another while Will naps against Jonathan’s shoulder. Joyce reaches over as they near the gates and grasps his hand.

He drives along the winding roads through the vast cemetery until he finds the row he’s looking for.

They all get out and they follow as he leads them down a row of tombstones until he comes to a stop in front of Sarah’s. They stop behind him, fanning out so that they can see around him.

“Sister,” Jane says softly, stepping forward. The gentleness and confidence with which she says it tugs at his heart.

“Yeah,” Will says, stepping carefully around the space in front of the stone before coming to a stop next to it on the other side. “Hey Sarah, nice to finally meet you.” He reaches into his pocket and pulls something out. “Dad says you like the stars. Me and El were junior camp counselors over the summer and we had the kids painting rocks one day. I painted you one.” He holds it out and Hopper tries to get a good look at it. He can only really make out three figures across the front. “I figured you’d be the astromancer of our party, they control the stars. So I drew you as that, with me and Jane.” He goes to set it down on the lower edge of her tombstone but stops, glancing up at Hopper. “Is that okay?”

It’s overwhelming. He hadn’t known what to expect when Joyce had said they were all going to come along, but he certainly hadn’t expected this.

“Yeah,” he manages to get out. “Yeah buddy that’s okay.”

With his approval, Will bends down again and gently places the stone along the lower edge.

“I made you one too,” Jane says, “but I’m not as good at drawing.”

The rock Jane pulls out of her coat is painted a deep blue with spatters of yellow stars across it, and he can just make out Sarah’s name written across it in a bright green. She places it delicately on the opposite side of the tombstone as Will’s.

It’s too much. He abruptly turns and walks back towards the car. He can feel a panic attack coming on, and he hates it. Hates that this is the reaction he’s having. He puts his hand against the hood of his car and leans against it, takes a series of deep breaths to calm himself down. The leaves behind him crunch, and there’s no doubt it’s Joyce.

“Hey,” she says, rubbing her hand down his spine.

“I’m sorry,” he says over his shoulder.

“Don’t be sorry. Do you need a minute?”

He nods, and he can feel as she presses a kiss to his back before retreating.

He rides the attack out, waiting for the pain in his chest to subside, waiting for the world to stop feeling like it’s closing in around him. 

This is why he hadn’t wanted them to come. He didn’t want any of them to see him like this, especially the kids. And he hates that he knows the twins will feel guilty about it. But it’s not them; well it is, he thinks. But it’s not because what they did is bad. It’s good, it's beautiful. To know that their love extends beyond just him, to his little girl who they only know through what little he’s told them of her. And how little it is, now that he thinks about it.

And he’s angry, angry that his daughter was taken from him, angry she’d never gotten to meet any of them. He thinks about what Jonathan said; how in an ideal world she’d still be here but he’d have still found his way back to Hawkins. Oh those kids. They’d be thick as thieves. He lets out a small laugh at the thought. Sarah, Jane and Will running around causing chaos. Her with the rest of the party, being an - an astromancer in their regular sessions in the Wheeler’s basement.

He pushes back from the car, refrains from reaching into his pocket for a smoke.

It’s not a perfect world, he thinks. And fuck the fact that it’s not. 

He takes another moment before he turns and glances back at them. They aren’t looking over at him, and he’s grateful. Instead they’re still looking at her grave. At her. Jonathan’s hand rests gently on the tombstone, Joyce’s arms around Jane and Will. They’re all talking quietly he can tell. And he feels the anxiety subside as he looks at them. What else had Jonathan said? He didn’t get to feel bad about them. 

He takes another deep breath and makes his way back over.

“- but now that I know where you are, I’ll try and get out here when I can okay?” he catches Jonathan saying and though he feels the need to turn and walk away again he pushes forward.

They look up at his approach. Jane holds out her hand and he takes it, giving it a reassuring squeeze.

“Do you want us to give you some time alone with her?” Joyce asks.

“No,” he says quickly. Because the thought of them leaving his side right now is too painful.

The few times he’d actually been out here, he hadn’t said anything, hadn’t felt the ease to speak the way the kids had. But perhaps now is as good a time as any to start.

“Hey sweetheart,” he begins shakily. “I’m - I'm sorry for not getting over here in a while.” He takes a shaky breath. “But I brought your siblings this time ‘round.” Jane squeezes his hand. “I love you.” He reaches out to gently touch the stone. “And I’ll be back again soon.”

He feels like he should say more but he can’t find the words. So the five of them stand silent for a time before he removes his hand from the stone and steps back. He struggles to move away but he knows they can’t stay here all day. 

“You ready?” he asks. They all nod and together they say their final goodbyes before moving away.

Joyce, ever so aware of him - honestly how does she do it? - loops her arm through Jonathan’s and walks ahead, leaving him to grab Jane and Will’s attention.

“Hey,” he says, causing them to stop with him. “That - that meant a lot to me.”

“We’re sorry if we upset you,” Jane says quietly.

“No hey,” he steps forward and places his hand reassuringly on her shoulder. “I wasn’t upset.” He tries to hold back tears. “Just overwhelmed.” He wraps his arm around her, burying his head in her hair. He places a gentle kiss before he pulls away. “It was beautiful.” He turns to Will and pulls him in for a hug.

“Thank you,” he whispers.

“We’d have been friends,” Will says.

“Siblings,” Jane corrects.

“Well yeah but I mean, friends too,” Will says. “Not all siblings like each other. But we’d have gotten along. She’d have been our sister and our friend.” He turns to look at Hopper. “She is our sister and our friend.”

He can feel the pain again, a gentle simmer deep in his chest but he forces it away. He won’t let it ruin a special moment, won’t let it encompass the swell of love and pride he feels at hearing Will say that. He clears his throat.

“Alright kid I ain’t crying anymore, okay?” He ruffles Will’s hair before moving to head towards the car. They catch up, Jane grasping for his hand, Will walking close enough to bump shoulders with him occasionally, letting him know he’s there.

Joyce and Jonathan wait for them by the car. He grasps Jonathan’s shoulder, his gratitude not needing to be spoken. And as the kids climb into the back seat, he turns to Joyce.

He rests his forehead against hers. She reaches up to wipe a tear from his cheek.

“I love you,” he whispers. It’s simple, but they so rarely say it to one another, holding it for special moments. So he knows it’s enough to convey just how grateful he is to her. For this. For everything.

“I love you too,” she says before tilting her head up and kissing him.

He knows were the circumstances different, one of the kids would lean forward and honk the horn, as they so usually do to annoy them. But this time they allow their parents the tender moment. He pulls away and opens the door for her before heading around to the driver’s seat. 

He glances one last time down the row, can just make out hers with the new rocks from the twins placed against it. He says a silent vow to return more often, no longer carrying as much of the guilt that kept him away. And then he puts the car back into drive, and drives away. One family member short, but he knows she’s always with them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> xxx


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jonathan. Hopper. Graduation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is garbage but as always thanks for reading xx

Spring 1990

Jonathan’s graduation is a massive celebration for Joyce, Hopper and their clan. The two of them make the drive up to Indianapolis, meeting the twins at the airport and they fly out for the weekend together. They see him and Nancy - who’d flown out a few days ago - briefly the night before, just to grab a drink. The big dinner after the ceremony will be enough celebration, but it’s nice to check in with him for an hour or so.

The hall is packed from wall to wall with family and friends. They arrive relatively early to get a good group of seats, and as he settles into the small chair, he groans at its discomfort. And to think he’d have to sit here through all of the graduates, even though Jonathan will likely be one of the first announced.

The crowd stands as one as the grads enter the hall. Joyce strains to see over the man in front of her, so he quickly switches spots so she has a better vantage point. It’s hard at first to tell where Jonathan is - though Jane quickly spots him and points him out. He debates hollering for the kid before he spots the tassel on his cap twitch and suddenly shoot up, pointing in their direction. Jonathan follows its line, spots them and waves. Hopper throws a glare at Jane. She shrugs, discreetly wiping at her nose.

He zones out during the speeches, only perking up when they begin announcing the students’ names. Will slyly pulls the camera - the video one, if he’s not mistaken - from his bag.

“I’m just gonna video him,” Will says. “Mom wanted me to get the whole ceremony but who’d honestly watch the _whole thing_?”

“Your mother,” Hopper retorts. He glances Joyce’s way, but she doesn’t seem to have noticed the cameras been out of sight. “Your secrets safe with me.”

“Christian Bukowski.”

“He’s probably next,” Will says, raising the camera.

“Jordan Cafferty.”

A cheer goes up from the other side of the auditorium as a young woman walks across the stage. Confused, Hopper turns to Joyce on his other side. 

“Uh, should we be worried?”

She shakes her head but doesn’t look his way.

“Joyce?”

She reaches over, taking his hand. Finally she looks at him, a small smile on her face. 

“It’s okay,” she says, “just give it a minute.”

He looks to Jane and Will but they seem as confused as him. Will shrugs but continues to hold the camera up, deciding it’s better to just keep recording. Nancy won’t seem to meet his eye, attention fully focused on the stage.

More students names are called, through the C’s and the D’s and still no sign of Jonathan. He scans the crowd of graduates but it’s hard to remember where exactly Jonathan had sat down now that all he can see are the tops of caps.

He leans down to speak quietly in Joyce’s ear.

“What’s going on?”

She squeezes his hand. “He’ll be announced. Just give it a few minutes.”

It does nothing to quell his confusion. Then when is he gonna be announced? It’s in alphabetical order, they were heading into the G’s now, and - oh.

Joyce must see the moment it clicks. She brings his hand up to her mouth and kisses it.

“He didn’t want me to tell you,” she says, “he was worried you’d say no.”

“Joyce,” he croaks.

_Shit. Shit shit shit shit shit._ He can’t think much else, he barely feels like he can breathe.

He’s torn in differing directions. He’s - well he’s overwhelmed for starters. But the shock is pulling at him too. Surely they wouldn’t have pulled that off without telling him?

“David Hills.”

His ears are ringing, his leg is bouncing at a rapid pace, his body needing to exert the stress in some way.

“Danielle Holden.”

The ringing stops. Sound bursting back to him on overload. Maybe he’s wrong. Maybe he’s being too presumptuous and he’ll look silly in a moment-

“Jonathan Hopper,” the announcer reads.

He’s not sure how exactly he stands; he’s pretty sure Joyce physically pulls him up with her when she jumps up. The kids seemingly accept it in stride, standing and cheering. Nancy whistles and Joyce hollers as loud as he’s ever heard her. He lets go of her hand to clap, proudly. 

Jonathan waves as he crosses the platform before holding his hands aloft in triumph.

They take a moment to sit back down, no doubt annoying the people behind them. But they can deal with it, he thinks. Joyce is watching her kid graduate, something that he knows she had once been worried she might never see. She and the rest of them can take their sweet time celebrating.

The rest of the ceremony passes them by. Once you see your kid graduate, it’s hard to really pay attention to the rest.

Afterwards, they spill outside onto the pavement and wait for the grads to meet them. The twins preoccupy themselves filming each other with the camera, narrating their surroundings.

“When will this mysterious Jonathan Hopper reveal himself?” Will says in a mock serious voice, holding the camera out in front of him to film himself. “And just what did he do with Jonathan Byers?”

He turns the camera to Jane. “He killed him,” she says in that solemn way she sometimes does. It’s so rare nowadays, but every once in a while, she brings it back with humor.

“Okay you two,” Joyce says, shooing them away, “why don’t you go find him and bring him over here?”

Nancy offers to join them and they head off, disappear into the throng of family and friends and when they’re out of sight she turns to him.

He’s still shaking, full body now that his leg can no longer casually bounce on its own. 

“Hey,” she says softly. He doesn’t say anything, doesn’t look at her. “Shit Hop, say something.”

“You should’ve told me,” he says. “Joyce - I - fuck I’m too old for this shit.” He takes a deep breath.

“Are you mad?”

“No, of course not,” he says. “I’m just trying not to have a heart attack here.”

She scans the crowd, looking for any open space they can step into but there are hundreds if not over a thousand people there’s nowhere to go. But it’s fine. He’s not having a panic attack, his mind’s just racing at a mile a minute.

“I’m sorry, I know, we should’ve told you. He only told me last night.”

“Then you should’ve told me last night.”

She nods. “I’m sorry,” she says, “he asked me not to but I should have.”

He runs his hands over his face, attempting to rub all the anxiety away. Jonathan Hopper. Jesus Christ the kid had just- he’d just. Joyce places her hand delicately on his arm in comfort.

_Jonathan Hopper._

That goddamn kid. All of them, all of them knew exactly how to hit him with such overwhelming love and pride. It washes over him suddenly. The anxiety is still there because they should’ve told him. But he can’t stop thinking about how wonderful it is.

“Sounds good,” he mumbles.

“What?”

“Jonathan Hopper,” he says, “it sounds good."

Her face lights up as a smile spreads across it, her nose crinkles in glee. “It does, doesn’t it?”

“We found him!” A shout comes from behind them, and they turn to look back. Will’s filming as Jane holds Jonathan’s hand aloft as they bring him over.

Joyce moves to hug him as soon as he’s close.

“Oh honey, I’m so proud of you!”

He accepts it, hugging her tightly back. They hold each other for a time, and it’s such a beautiful moment. He takes a minute to think back on everything they’ve been through, together and before. How Joyce had worried this day would never come, how she’d confided in him as much. Both of them constantly carrying the fear that they had somehow damaged their kids along the way. And yet here they stand, Jonathan achieving what he’d always dreamed of, what she had always dreamed of for him.

Joyce pulls away, presses a couple kisses to his cheek before turning to Will.

“Will, baby where’s the other camera? The picture one.” 

As Will and Joyce get situated with that, Jonathan shuffles over towards Hopper. 

“Hey,” he says weakly.

He doesn’t know what to say. Unsure how to properly convey his emotions. 

“Nice to meet you,” he settles on, lamely holding out his hand.

Jonathan rolls his eyes, fighting back a smile. “Funny.” His smile fades and he shifts awkwardly on his feet. “Was that - are you okay?”

He pushes aside the annoyance that flares up at being asked that. If he’s gotta ask then he full well knows that he should’ve told him beforehand. But he brushes it off. It was in the past now, there was nothing to be done. He wants to look ahead, savor this moment.

“Kid, how many times do I have to tell you you’re mine?”

Relief crosses Jonathan’s face. Hopper wants to reach out, assure him with his customary hand on shoulder. But he refrains, sensing Jonathan has something to say, and he doesn’t want to deter him.

“I’ve been thinking about it a lot lately. About him, about the kind of man he is and about the kind of man I want to be.” He fiddles with stole around his neck. “He’s done nothing for me, and the thought of associating myself with him for the rest of my life - I don’t wanna do that.”

He wants to tell him he should take Horowitz then, if he wants to associate himself with someone who’s always been there. A strong name, a strong woman. But he knows it’s futile. He’d had the same discussion with Joyce not too long ago, had encouraged her to go back to it. She’d refused, choosing instead to take his. He runs his finger fondly over his ring. He should’ve known then really that they’d come to this point.

_“I want to have the same last name as my kids, Hop.”_

“I don’t know if I’m really the kind of guy you wanna be associating yourself with either.” He means it jokingly but he hears that it’s tinged with self-deprecation.

“Shut up,” Jonathan says with a roll of his eyes.

Hopper laughs and nods.

“I didn’t make this decision lightly,” Jonathan continues. “And it’s not official yet, but you know, I’d like it to be.” He shrugs. “I - I don’t wanna be burdened with his name anymore. And - I don’t wanna do that to my kids either.”

The words stun him. He’d never really thought about it, the idea of his name being passed on. Hadn’t thought of it with Sarah, it wasn’t something you thought about with daughters. But he hadn’t ever really cared about it either, hadn’t been struck with the thought when he’d officially adopted Will and he’d taken Hopper as his last name. He knows some men think about it, has heard some boast when they’d had sons that could ‘carry the family name.’

But now, with Jonathan bringing it to his attention, he’s struck with pride. Not at some dumb thought of his name carrying on per se, but pride at the thought of him - and perhaps Will depending on what his future held - would happily bestow the last name on their children. That they had chosen to take it, meant more.

“I’d -“ he clears his throat - “I'd be honored.”

Jonathan smiles. “Yeah, me too.”

“Are you two done?” Will calls. “Because we’re kinda waiting over here.”

He looks over to see Joyce scolding him quietly, as the girls quickly look away, attempting to make it seem as though they hadn’t just been watching.

“Yeah,” Jonathan calls back. “But just get a picture with me and Dad first.”

Hopper’s head whips back around, stunned. Jonathan gives him a bewildered look before he shrugs.

“Did you really not think that was coming?”

He shakes his head, slinging his arm around Jonathan’s shoulders and turning towards Will with the camera. Joyce is smiling through her hand, eyes tearing up.

“Yeah kid you’re just dropping surprises on me left and right today,” he says, before breaking into a smile for the camera. Will snaps the photo, and he turns back to Jonathan. “I’m too old for it, you’re gonna kill me.”

“Sorry,” Jonathan says, grinning like a little shit, “Dad.” He hollers for Joyce to join them.

“The kids comment, that’s not you trying to say Nancy’s pregna-“

“Oh my god, no!” Now he looks mortified, and Hopper’s the one grinning.

Joyce comes to a stop next to them, smiling fondly.

“I’m a dad again,” he deadpans.

“Congrats, it’s a boy.”

Jonathan looks on, embarrassed.

Hopper tries to excuse himself from the photo, wanting one of just Joyce and Jonathan. The mother and her oldest, just one of three she’d go to the ends of the earth for, but the first she had promised everything to. And everything she had given, he thinks, as they stand with Jonathan having just achieved his greatest dream. But the two of them are having none of it. They’ll get that picture in a minute she assures him. 

They take a photo of the three of them, before Will and Jane join them for a family photo that Hopper can already envision on the mantle back home. From there it’s a constant rotation of people- the three kids together; Nancy and Jonathan; Joyce, Will and Jonathan. They get all of the shots they need, and Hopper makes sure he’s never the one responsible for the camera.

They finally head off to the car, parked a couple blocks away. Jonathan, Joyce and himself are a bit ahead of the other three, Jonathan between them.

He reaches up, places his arm around Jonathan and squeezes his shoulder.

“We’re really proud of you Jonathan.”

Jonathan turns and grins. “Thanks Dad.”

He finds out later that Will had snuck a photo. His arm around his oldest, the two of them grinning at one another while Joyce looks on fondly from Jonathan’s other side. Will gives it to him a few weeks later, framed. 

He puts it on his desk, along with the photo of his three kids on the same day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That's the end for this one! Thanks again, let me know what you think xxx

**Author's Note:**

> Hope it's alright :)
> 
> Cheers xxx


End file.
